


Lost

by EthyrinKairos



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley Was Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 12:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22769545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EthyrinKairos/pseuds/EthyrinKairos
Summary: An attempt to describe what it feels like to know you have lost something irreplaceably precious, from an unconscious decision (as implied by the 'vaguely sauntered downwards'). I'm a fan of the Crowley is Raphael theory, so I'll try to incorporate how and why Crowley isn't as evil as the other demons, and how Raphael is still mentioned in some holy texts in future chapters.
Kudos: 4





	1. The Fall

_*Disclaimer: Everything I know of the angel Raphael is from the Wikipedia page. The work is simply an exercise in writing, not meant to reflect any religion belief or fact. Would love any feedback!_

You came into existence surrounded by Love. Warmth filled your being, and love for Her spilled out as divine music, each note an aspect of joy. With you are four others, and you knew your name. _Raphael**. **God Heals. _The ability to mold the energies of creation, to restore them to the state She meant them to be. Your song drifted through the vast emptiness, and as She wills, they morph into stars, each singing of Her glory. Your essence is creation, and you bring to life the world.

You can’t know fear when all you’ve known is love. You can’t fear consequences when there has been none. All of a sudden, your brother rebelled, and you don’t know why. You see the chaos. You see the dead. _Why is this happening?_ _What is going on?_ You questioned, and for the first time, you’re skills are used to heal what was never meant to be broken. Every moment was spent in the thick of the field, your nature urging you to make it better. Everyone you laid your hands on was a brother or sister. A little faith is spent with every wound mended. At the worst possible time, it finally flickered. You see your eldest brother falling, still the brightest in all creation. Doubt reached your heart in the last moment, before you could think of the consequence.

You are hurtling down from heaven, fire darkening your essence. Yet it is the absence of Her Grace, that consumes your emotion. Oh what have you done, in a single moment of indecision. Oh what have you lost, from a choice made without intention. To fall from a height previously unknown, to a depth unforeseen. You finally know the meaning of consequence.

Regret. Too little, too late.

You crash into the depth of what will be known as hell, an empty husk unrecognizable. Never again will you fell Her warmth, never again will you be sure of your place in creation. You are gone from Her Love, you have squandered all you were given. A single moment of doubt, that you never meant. You ached for Her Love, you miss Heaven.

Around you your brethren consumed each other, to seek to fill the ugly void. Their forms grow twisted, and the dissonance louder. It grated against the tattered remains of your healer’s core. Shying from the pain, you twisted smaller. A tiny snake, you slithered into the ether, God's light fading further and further.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of Raphael

Too late. It is much too late. You did not know you had a choice, and when you finally did, the act is done. You are what remained of the fire, after vacuum pulled the air away. Your very being was made from faith, and _you_ by definition cannot exist without it. You were made to be the reflection of her Grace upon creation. Your purpose is to spread her Love, to create and shape, yet now you are empty of grace. It was a mistake. An undoable mistake. You still yearn for her Love, still yearn to heal, but the only thing that respond is empty space.

You can sense other Fallen still ripping each other apart – each act of violence seems to generate some unholy light, coating their tattered cores. Nothing remained of those too weak, or still frozen, while demons emerged from the ruins of the Fallen. From a distance, you can sense your eldest brother assert his will, and all who oppose him became a part him.

Had you not been who you are. Had you not escaped into the ether between planes of creation, you would have joined their ranks. As your brother swell with unholy power, and the last visage of sanity left his eyes, you decided you can bear it no longer. You cut yourself off. You sealed yourself from every single plane of existence. Nothing in, nothing out. You are alone with your anguish, and it is too much to bear. With the last of your power, you severed your last tether to your form, your very conscious.

Darkness.


End file.
